Two Knights at Arkham
by Nacoma23
Summary: When Jaune Arc was pushed into that locker by Pyrrha, he thought he lost everything. He lost all hope. But then he woke up in a strange city called Gotham, home to superpowered criminals, murderous clowns, and a dark knight protecting the innocent. It is here, in this strange new world, that Jaune will find one who'll teach him to be a hero. But first, they must survive the asylum.
1. Madness (Prologue)

**The following is a non-profit fan-made work of fiction. RWBY is the property Rooster Teeth Productions, LLC. Batman: Arkham Asylum is the property of DC Comics, Rocksteady, and Warner Bros. Please support the official releases.**

**Dedicated to Monty Oum, Bill Finger, and Bob Kane**

**Also, Happy 80****th**** birthday Batman, you've aged well.**

**Two Knights at Arkham**

**Chapter 0: Madness**

* * *

A wise man once said, "Madness is like gravity, all it takes a single push."

It should be noted that this man was also quite mad himself. After all, it took a madman to fully understand the intricate maze that is the human psyche; for they were always the ones to lose their way exploring it. Few ever truly found their way out, and those that did were often changed, and not for the better. But what could push a single person into madness, if one were to ask? Why all it took was one bad day. It only took one bad day.

But how long does it take for an entire kingdom to fully succumb to madness? It took only a single minute, one spectacularly, monumentally, and horrifyingly unpleasant minute. But what could happen in a single minute that would cause an entire kingdom to fall? Jaune Arc knew the answer.

In just one minute, his entire world was turned upside down. He witnessed his best friend accidently murder another girl on live, internationally broadcasted television. Then it turned out that poor girl was a cyborg, an aura-empowered living machine developed in secret by one of the most powerful kingdoms on the planet. Finally, all communications were hacked, with an unknown group broadcasting an ominous message to the whole world, accusing the hunter academies, and their headmasters, as being part of a global conspiracy to control the world. All of this happened in one minute, and it took less than a second for all hell to break loose.

Once the message ended, whatever threads of sanity that remained in the kingdom unraveled. Suspicions were aroused, threats were made, and accusations were thrown. It was only natural for the Grimm to be attracted to such negativity, especially when it was being projected across an entire kingdom. The creatures of Grimm came out in droves, hungry to feast on the cowering humans and Faunus.

Jaune thought that his troubles would have ended there. But like many times before in his life, the universe just finds a way to turn an already horrible situation worse. As the Grimm marched on Vale, the White Fang, an organization of Faunus extremists, attacked his school, Beacon Academy. Then the Atlesian Knights, android soldiers built to protect the festival from attack, were hacked, turning their weapons on the hunters and civilians they were programmed to protect.

Then he and his partner, Pyrrha Nikos, were led into a secret subbasement beneath their school by their headmaster, Ozpin. He didn't know what exactly was going on down there, but he had a feeling that it was something that the council knew nothing about. He would've asked Pyrrha if she knew about it, but she didn't give him an answer. Then Ozpin shepherded her to some kind of strange machine, one that seemed to be two pods connected to the other. For a second, Jaune could've sworn he saw a young, tan woman in one of them. Pyrrha entered the other one, with Ozpin commanding him to stand guard.

What happened next was something that he knew he'll come to regret. As he stood watch, he heard the machine power on, and then Pyrrha screaming in pain. Concern for his partner compelled him to lose his guard, and he ran to his friend and Headmaster. He watched as some kind of energy was being funneled away from the mystery woman's pod and into the invincible girl's, coating he friend in a luminescent energy that he was certain wasn't a semblance. He heard Ozpin apologize, but Jaune didn't know to whom he was apologizing.

Then there was the sound of cracking glass, and Jaune turned to see an arrow had pierced through the glass of the other pod, and jammed itself right into the heart of the now-dead mystery woman. Both he and Ozpin turned, looking to the end of the basement, and met face-to-face with the murderer. To his shock, the attacker was none other than Cinder Fall, a Haven student who had befriended their teams, along with her teammates Mercury Black and Emerald Sustrai. He didn't need all the evidence to know that she was the one behind this attack. She had played them all for fools, and now the rug was being swept from under their feet.

The machine died out, with the energy returning to the mystery woman's corpse, which then detached from her body and flew right into Cinder, merging with her. Jaune watched in horror as the so-called student then glowed, her eyes literally burning, flames erupting around her. The woman levitated off the ground, with the flames now dancing about her, as though she were showing off her new power. Whatever that power was, it was meant for Pyrrha, and Cinder had taken it. Then he made another mistake he'll come to regret.

Call it righteous anger or vengeful pride, but Jaune lashed out, sword raised and poised to bash the woman's skull in. He didn't even register Ozpin's warning before it was too late. Oh, how stupid he was. Just as he reached her, the energy around Cinder ignited, forcing the knight to bring up his shield on reflex. The energy impacted his shield, tossing him back. His failed attack forced Pyrrha to act, with her forcing the pod open, summoning her weapons to herself, intent on striking the woman who dared harm him. Ozpin stopped her, directing her to take him and seek out help from Goodwitch, General Ironwood, and Ruby's uncle Qrow. He left no room for negotiation. Who were they to argue with an experienced huntsman?

He and Pyrrha immediately fled the area, leaving their Headmaster alone with the newly-empowered Cinder. Once they reached the surface, he immediately brought out his scroll to call Goodwitch, but not without finally asking Pyrrha what exactly was all of that? She had no answer to that question. Then they heard the sound of something rocketing through elevator shaft, the sound of shooting fire echoing through the empty tower and across the deserted courtyard. Cinder was coming. Ozpin had failed. The most highly-skilled hunter in the world, a prodigy unrivaled among his peers, had been defeated by a younger woman less than half his age, using powers that Jaune can only describe as magic.

Everything that had happened up to that point, all the death, destruction, and desolation had been the work of Cinder, he realized. One woman, with one thoroughly calculated plan, had plunged all of Vale into madness. But despite all of that, despite everything he had seen that was causing him to question everything he believed, the one thing that completely jarred his seventeen year old mind was something people would consider mundane by comparison: A kiss.

His partner, Pyrrha Nikos, his teammate and best friend had kissed him square on the lips. The kiss was long, loving, and full of passion, and Jaune couldn't help but reciprocate. He could feel her feelings behind the kiss. This was not a kiss from a person with a crush, rather a girl who was truly head over heels in love with him. Pyrrha Nikos, The Invincible Girl, Mistral Regional Champion, and Pumpkin Pete's Cereal Mascot was deeply in love with him, Jaune Arc, a relative nobody by comparison. How could he have been so blind?

That kiss turned bittersweet once he realized what it truly was. It was a confession of love, alright, but it was coming from a girl who thought, no, _knew_ she was going to die.

The last words she spoke, before pushing him into a locker, were a resigned, "I'm Sorry." The last time he saw his teammate were her beautiful green gazing at him through the slits, longing and taking one last good look at him. Then she launched the locker, sending it away, flying away at breakneck speeds toward a destination where she was sure he'll be safe.

To put it simply, Jaune Arc was having a _really_ _bad day_.

* * *

Jaune thrashed against the metallic walls of the locker. He was crying and begging for the Gods to stop this nightmare, so that he can wake up and see Pyrrha's smiling face looking down at him. He wanted to enjoy a nice pancake breakfast with Nora and Ren, and then go see if Team RWBY was willing to go on a trip to Vale with them. There was no way that this was all real.

But as his fists clashed against the cold metal, with the rushing wind whistling through the slits in the door, and the roars of the creatures of Grimm, the harsh and altogether horrifying reality set in, and he knew realized this wasn't a nightmare. This was real, everything that has happened _has_ happened, and everything happening right now really _is_ happening. His partner and Best friend, Pyrrha, is going to try and fight Cinder.

And Pyrrha is going to die. If Ozpin couldn't stop her, what hope was there that an academy student could?

"Dammit…" He whimpered, only for his rage to take over, shouting, "DAMMIT IT ALL TO HELL!"

If only he had kept watch, if he could have shielded the other pod with his shield, then all of this wouldn't be happening. Pyrrha would have had Cinder's powers, Vale would have been saved, and so many lives could have been saved, if he had just kept his guard up.

_It's my fault…_

"Gods damn it… DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!" The young man cursed again, banging his fists against cold metal.

Tears sting his eyes, threatening to fall. He was filled with shame, regret, and anger. Shame that he was still the same dumb kid from initiation; regret that he never noticed Pyrrha's feelings toward him. He had no idea who he was angry at, but he knew that he was one of the people he was angry at was himself. Such negativity was oozing of the young man.

_CRAWGH!_

And the large, winged Grimm flying near him found his dark emotions delicious. The Nevermore dived for the flying locker, intent on cracking its metallic shell and eating the delicious morsel inside. With a bloodthirsty caw, it dug its razor sharp talons into metal box. Jaune felt the tips of the talons graze his arms before he registered the beak trying to peck at the door's slit.

_Damn it! Can this day get any better! _The Arc mentally remarked, activating his aura.

The wounds on his arms close up, leaving only drying blood to mark their place. As the avian monster continued its assault, Jaune considered his options. His options, of which there were only three much to his dissatisfaction, were the following.

Option A: Open the door and attack the Grimm, either dying in its stomach or by falling to the ground. He may have Aura, but just how useful was it once he reaches terminal velocity.

Option B: Open the door and try to escape, falling to his death, Aura or not.

Option C: Stay inside the locker, wait for the Grimm, and accept his fate as Grimm Chow.

_No matter the option, I die. _Jaune glumly thought.

The Grimm's talons were digging deeper through the metal walls, stabbing his arms. He screamed, unable to handle the pain. It's equally sharp beak has finally broken through the small opening. The beast's menacing red eyes hone in on the face of its frightened prey, letting out a victorious screech.

Jaune was going to die. He was going to die and nobody would know. His friends would never know, his family would never know, and the whole world will just continue on without him. What upsets him most is that he'll never know if the people he loves will survive this madness, or even if they'll miss him.

It's like the punchline to a really sick joke.

Accepting his fate, Jaune Arc closed his eyes, waiting for his imminent death. He can only hope it'll be quick.

The Grimm raised its head, ready to chow down on its newest meal.

Yet, neither beast nor man noticed the strange phenomenon happening above them.

Crackling across the heavens, sparking and flashing like lightning, was some sort of strange ethereal blue lights. The flashes coalesce, forming a small spinning circle of light. Suddenly, a beam of light shot out from it.

Neither noticed the blinding blue light before it was too late. Both Jaune Arc and the Nevermore disappear in a flash of light, leaving behind a maddened world that had fallen into anarchy. Yet, in all of this chaos, nearly anybody with a conscious mind saw this light. They couldn't help but wonder.

_Just what sort of madness was that?_

* * *

_On October 25__th__, 80 AGW, Jaune Arc disappeared, during what will later be known as The Fall of Beacon. He is listed as MIA._

* * *

"Just what sort of madness was that?"

Having lived on Gotham's streets as a homeless vagrant for fifteen years, Willis Jones has seen things. He has witnessed terrible crimes committed at night and in broad daylight, watched many friends become victims of those crimes, and has seen a grown man dressed like a bat delivering justice upon criminals and protecting his friends. Yes, he has seen very worst, best, and strangest of humanity, and he thought he had seen it all.

That was until he saw a bright light flash before his eyes, which nearly blinded him. As he shielded his eyes, he heard the rough sound of metal banging against brick walls, before scraping against the cold concrete pavement. When he opened his eyes, he saw a locker, just like the kind he used back in High School, lying a few feet away from him, and it had what looked like booster rockets attached to the bottom of the metal container. Despite his better judgment, the vagrant hobbled over to the metal container, intent on determining its place of origin.

Was it a prototype of some kind? Did it belong to Waynetech, maybe LexCorp or Queen Industries? If it belonged to any of those companies, then why would they build a school locker with rockets? All these questions along with others filled his mind as he analyzed the strange object.

Willis banged on the locker once, and to his surprise it was hollow. But it wasn't empty as he heard a soft groan from inside it.

_Holy shit, there's a guy inside! _He thought in shock. Was it the pilot? Did a locker actually need a pilot?

Jumping to his feet, Willis looked around the area, searching for anything that could pry the locker open. Eventually, he found a crowbar, slightly rusted and looking a bit bloodied, underneath some garbage. Gotham always did have dangerous litter.

He gripped the crowbar with both hands and wedged it into the door, and using all of his strength, pulled down on the crowbar. After a few seconds of struggle, the door shot open, with the crowbar flying out of his grip. Willis looked inside the locker and found…

He blinked in surprise and said, "What the hell?"

It was just a kid, probably in his late teens. The kid had blond hair, was dressed in jeans and a black hoodie, and was wearing some kind of white armor protecting his chest. Was the armor real? He then noticed that a sheath was attached to the boy's belt, which had a sword in it. Willis has seen a grown man dressed like a bat, but never had he seen a teenaged boy dressed like some kind of discount store knight.

_Is this one of those cosplay things the kids are doing these days? If so, it's not a very good one._

Questions for later, right now he needs to see if the kid was alright. He nudged the boy's arm, "Hey, kid, you alright?"

His question was answered with the teenager groaning in pain. The boy's eyes slowly opened, revealing two bloodshot blue eyes. Slowly but surely, the boy rose, albeit very groggily and wincing slightly with each movement. His breathing was ragged and his eyes were darting around the place. Willis had seen that look many times on some of his friends, some of whom were veterans. The Discount Knight was either going through a bit of an episode or coming off an adrenaline rush, he honestly can't tell.

It took only a few seconds for the boy to calm down. Once he had fully relaxed, he looked at Willis and asked, "Where am I?"

"Morrison Street Alleyway," The vagrant answered.

"Where is that in Vale?" The boy asked.

"The hell is Vale?" Willis balked, "You sure you don't have a concussion, kid?"

"Yeah, I'm sure; just tell me is the school safe?"

At that, Willis raised a questioning brow. Just what was the kid going on about? What school was he talking about? Was a school being attacked? It was late at night and all the schools are closed for the summer, so why would a closed school be under attack?

"I don't know what you mean, kid." He helped the boy out of the locker, "But all the schools are closed for the summer."

The boy looked at the man as if he'd grown a second head. He then indignantly remarked, "Summer? What are you talking about? It's close to the end of October!"

"Kid, I think that rough landing scrambled your memory, because it's August."

The boy looked at Willis like he was crazy. It wasn't the first time that Willis had been mistaken for crazy. He knew many people who've lived on the streets who've had some kind of mental illness. He had known a few who lost themselves completely and were taken to Arkham. Willis knew enough about the Asylum to know that's the last place anyone would want to go for treatment.

The boy, ignoring the comment, then asked with a desperate tone, "Where in Vale are we?"

Now Willis looked at the boy strangely and said, "Oy, Again with the Vale. Listen, Kid, I've been living on these streets for nearly fifteen years and I've never heard of a place called Vale."

"How can you not know where Vale is? We're standing in it, right now!" The boy nearly shouted.

Willis, nonplussed, calmly told the boy. "No, this is Gotham City."

The boy blinked once and asked, "Gotham? Where on Remnant is that?"

Willis could feel that this one could take a while.

* * *

Never before in its long life, had it tasted such sweet, delicious malevolence.

After the blinding light, it felt the hard, rough stone fields that the inferior creatures made. It had thought it landed in Vale, but it could not sense the presence of its brethren. It couldn't feel the guiding hand of its mother. But it did feel. It tasted the air and it carried so many delicious tastes.

It tasted the fear, the anger, the sadness, and hopelessness. This place, wherever it is, was not Vale. Vale never had such richly textured malevolence and negativity, and this place had it in droves. So many servings and morsels, and it was all concentrated here, just to sate its own appetite. It was a bountiful buffet and it shall have its fill.

Then, it heard the sound of glass shattering against pavement, a woman screaming in terror, and a man shouting for her money. Its dinner time and it has found its first serving.

Two wings, feathers black as midnight, open. It ascended into the air, like a shadow taking flight and melding into the night. It then flew off, searching for its first meal.

As it flew, it noticed a strange sight in the sky. Dark clouds were forming, the tell-tale sign of a coming storm. A beam of light shone right into the heavens, colliding right into the largest cloud.

Against the backdrop of a cloud, the shadow of another beast took flight.

The Nevermore could not tell if it was an actual animal, but it could see with its devilish red eyes what it was.

It was a bat.

* * *

**Alright, everybody, I hope you enjoyed this little teaser. Don't worry, more will come and soon the Dark Knight himself will appear. I took up this challenge mainly to challenge myself as a writer and because I was inspired to do so by the other Fanfictions that were done as part of this concept. If you can, please read them.**

**Also, The Invincible Whitley Schnee will be updated soon. After a hard semester, I'm gonna have to get back into the groove of things.**


	2. From Madness and Into the Madhouse (1)

**The following is a non-profit fan-made work of fiction. RWBY is the property of Rooster Teeth Productions, LLC. Batman: Arkham Asylum is the property of DC Comics, Rocksteady, and Warner Bros. Please support the official releases.**

**TWO KNIGHTS AT ARKHAM**

**Chapter 1: From Madness and Into the Madhouse (PART 1)**

* * *

_Day 1: August 25__th__, 2009 AD (Personal Note: Writing "AD" is gonna take some getting used to) _

_To Whom It May Concern (And I'm hoping you're from Remnant), _

_I never thought this sort of thing could happen and to me, of all people. One minute, I was soaring through Vale inside a rocket-propelled locker, about to become a Nevermore's dinner, when suddenly this bright light appeared. The next thing I knew, I was in some dirty alleyway being rescued by a bum. When I asked him where in Vale City we were, he just looked at me like __I__ was the crazy one and asked a single question that destroyed what little sanity I had left in my life._

"_The hell is Vale?"_

_Obviously, denial set in first. For a minute, I thought I had landed in some random Vale alleyway, only to be found by what I assumed was a crazy hobo. That's what I thought had happened. But then I looked at the moon. Only, it wasn't the moon that I've spent countless nights growing up watching with my sisters. The moon hanging in the sky, rather than a fragmented mess of debris, was fully round and completely whole. That was when the reality of the situation finally began to kick in. Forget being in my world, I was in another one. As you can imagine, my reaction was short, concise, and accurately represented my full understanding of the situation._

"_What the fuck?"_

* * *

"Hey, watch your language, Kid!" warned the hobo.

For the moment, Jaune rightly didn't care about watching his admittedly colorful vocabulary. He was far too busy processing the fact that he had somehow been transported to another world. It didn't make any sense, this sort of thing only happened in like comics, movies, or video games. He wondered if he was dreaming, but everything around him in this alleyway, like the broken shards of glass, the sounds of a bustling city, and the repugnant stink of human waste assaulted his senses. Such vivid details were enough to convince him that he was wide awake in a world that could only be dreamt of.

The hobo, concerned for the obviously traumatized young man, asked, "Hey, kid, are you alright? You're kinda spacing out there."

Jaune snapped out of his stupor and quickly assured the man, "I'm fine, just trying to process the last few minutes."

_Which is easier said than done. _Jaune bitterly thought. He knew it was gonna take more than just a scant few minutes to come to terms with his situation. He hoped there were psychiatrists in this world, because he sure as hell needed one right. Whoever got that job, Jaune knew they were going to make a mint hearing about his problems.

They might even write books about him. The boy who thought he came from another world, one that has fallen into madness, thanks to a literal fiery femme fatale, who brought an entire kingdom down with an army of Grimm-

"Oh, shit, the Grimm!" Jaune exclaimed, having forgotten about the stowaway he brought from Remnant.

"I'm sorry, but who's Grimm?" The Hobo asked, wondering if the boy had lost a friend.

Jaune immediately explained, "It's not a 'who', more a 'what'. A Grimm is a monster, one that feeds on humans, and it's attracted to negativity and malice."

The Hobo raised a brow and said, "That sounds like something out of Tim Burton's wettest dreams."

Jaune didn't know who this Tim Burton was, but that didn't matter at the moment. Right now, he had a monster to hunt, one that had a craving for human and Faunus flesh. He quickly unsheathed his sword, which nearly scared the older man who had been trying to help him. His shield folded out on his arm, which amazed the homeless man. He asked the blonde, "Kid, are you supposed to be some kind of knight or something?"

Jaune paid no mind to the question as he turned on his heel, intent on seeking out the Nevermore. He will not rest until the beast lied dead at his feet, slowly evaporating into nothingness as he watched. No more innocent blood will be lost on his watch. Plus he was having a really bad day and he needed to vent his frustrations out in a healthy manner.

He only made it a few steps before he was held back by someone pulling on the hood of his hoodie. He stopped in his tracks and turned to face the Hobo, the person responsible for impeding his hunt. The older man frowned and asked, "Kid, just what the hell are you doing?"

"I'm a Huntsman. I'm doing what Huntsman do, which is hunting." Jaune impatiently replied, wondering why the helpful old man had suddenly decided to be unhelpful.

"Don't get snippy with me, boy!" The hobo nearly shouted, using a tone that Jaune usually heard from his father. The man relaxed, releasing the hood from his grasp, and calmly explained. "While I don't doubt that you're hunting a monster, which honestly speaking ain't the craziest thing I heard in my life, but you just can't go around the city waving that sword around. People'll think you're hopped up on happy pills or just nuts."

"But I'm just trying to help!" Jaune argued, not understanding how he would be seen as insane.

The old man continued explaining, "I don't doubt that, son, but other people might. Now I don't know how it works where you're from- say, you wouldn't happen to be from Krypton, would you?'"

Jaune blinked and asked, "What's Krypton?"

"Okay, forget I asked. The point is if you start going from neighborhood to neighborhood, stalking some monster with a sword and shield, people are gonna assume you're some crazy-ass kid trying to chop people up. It wouldn't be the first time that happened here, trust me on that."

Taking the man's words to heart, Jaune then asked, "What about the cops? You do have cops, right?"

"Kid, the cops here are more likely to taze you than help you and that's only if you find the right ones."

"And if I find the wrong ones, what would happen?"

"They'll probably shoot you dead, no questions asked. They wouldn't even be bothered by it; they'd just reason that it's one less lazy mouth to feed at the soup kitchen." The hobo explained with a bitter tone.

Jaune was not unfamiliar with crooked cops. He had heard stories from Blake about how she had come across a few before she came to Beacon. He knew she was a Faunus, and the Vale Police had a very _sordid_ history regarding their treatment of Vale's Faunus community. They have only gotten better in recent years, after Vale appointed a Faunus police commissioner.

Yet, it was just his luck that he had been brought to a world where there were apparently more crooked cops than good ones, at least in whatever city he had landed in.

"Say, can you tell me the name of this city, then?" Jaune asked the bum.

The bum sighed, "Sure, it's..."

* * *

_Gotham City, as explained to me by the bum, whose name I learned was Willis, was not the best place to live. I only learned later that his description was a gross understatement._

_How would I describe Gotham? Well, it'd be like this. Gotham City is worse than even Hell in every conceivable way. You see, in Hell, there are only __**bad**__ people, the __**worst**__ of the worst, and they are the ones who suffer. In Gotham, there are bad people, the worst imaginable, but it's only the __**good**__ people who suffer. You know how people spend their whole lives trying to stay out of hell? What they really should've been doing was praying that they'd never go to Gotham at least once in their lives._

_I know what you're thinking. You're probably thinking, "Jaune, you're just blowing things out of proportion." Well, guess what? The rate of crime in this city, whether it is murder, robbery, or rape is actually four times the national average in the United States (That's the name of the country where Gotham is located. Just think of it as like a kingdom that's larger and not confined to a single city). However, there are some criminals in Gotham, as I would come to learn, who are more than __**average**__, and that is a gross oversimplification._

_Yeah, it's a pretty fucked up, wretched hive of scum and villainy. But, at least it had some damn good food._

* * *

It was nearly closing time at the Morrison Street Diner. After a long day of serving many people, the cook, waiters, and waitresses were ready to call it quits for the night. But then one of their regulars came walking in through the door. The man had no money and looked like he'd seen better days, but the old cook never turned him away, often giving him a burger fresh off the grill. Such kindness was a rare find in Gotham these days.

When he stepped through the door, with the sound of a bell ringing, they assumed that they would only serve one person before closing time. They didn't expect a second person.

Yes, the diner staff recognized Willis Jones, but they hadn't the slightest idea who the boy was. Some of them had known Willis for years, but never had he ever brought another person with him, especially one who seemed to be dressed in cosplay. But it wasn't the clothes that bothered them; it was more the despondent look on the boy's face. It wasn't the look of a boy scared of being lost in Gotham, but of one who seemed to have lost everything.

The two patrons sit at the countertop. Willis asked aloud, "Joe, the usual for me, please!"

From behind the grill, Joe the cook shouted back, "And what about you, kid?"

The Boy doesn't answer. He was too busy staring off into space to answer. Willis answered for him, "Just give him what I'm having, with a glass of water, too!"

Having heard his most regular customer, Joe set about fulfilling the requested order of two Gotham-style cheeseburgers. As he cooked, he motioned for one of the waitresses, a young Gotham University student named Clara, to bring out a glass of water. She complied, but not before making a complaint about working overtime. She had classes in the morning, she needed sleep. The rest of the staff was free to leave, which they promptly did. As the cook and waitress prepared their dinner, Willis and the boy conversed.

"So, how are you holding up, Kid?" Willis asked in concern.

The boy didn't look at him, but he answered in a defeated tone. "Still trying to process what you told me…"

Willis frowned, having thought the boy had finally accepted the reality. He wondered if that crash did more to the boy's brain than he originally thought. He was no psychologist, but he didn't need a degree to see the boy was having a bit of a breakdown. As they walked to the diner, he had filled the boy in on what there was to know about Gotham City. The boy asked a question for every explanation he gave him, mainly about places like Vale and Remnant, and these things called Grimm. Willis didn't know what a Grimm was, but it sounded like if the monsters from the Fairy Tales he read as a kid and a Xenomorph had a baby, and the baby was nursed on literal nightmare fuel.

Willis had seen many things in his life, especially in Gotham City. He'd seen grown adults fighting crime in tights, actual aliens invade, and the Joker once throwing a parade while blasting Prince's music; but he had never seen or heard anything as strange as what the kid told him.

"Look, Kid-" He began only to be cut off by the boy.

"Jaune… My name is Jaune." The now-named Jaune corrected him.

_Well, at least I won't have to keep calling him "kid" in my head. _Willis thought, having grown tired of addressing Jaune by his age.

He spoke again, "Look, Jaune, I know this is a lot to take in. But what you need now is time."

Jaune snorted, as though finding the suggestion laughable, "Time?" He began before adding, "I don't need it. What I do need is to find this Grimm and bash its skull in before it feeds on innocent people."

He didn't shout. He hadn't even raised his voice. But the anger was still there. Anger tinged with desperation, the tell-tale sign of a person wanting gratification to placate their depression. Willis didn't know how to handle a temperamental teenager, so he kept whatever comment about the boy's delusions to himself. Yes, he thought the boy was crazy, albeit definitely not from his world, but that didn't bother him in the slightest. After all, some of Earth's greatest heroes weren't even from Earth.

All he can do was to try and give the boy some reassurance. "Look, Jaune, if this "Grimm" you're looking for is anywhere in the city, the cops have probably found it by now."

"That won't be enough. They won't be enough. I'm the only one who can do it." Jaune resolutely declared with a steeled resolve in his voice.

Willis was nearly taken aback by the young man's tone. For a second, he thought he was speaking to an experienced fighter, rather than some amnesiac kid suffering from delusions. In fact, his tone reminded him of some other vagrants he knew, the ones who had once been military. He couldn't help but wonder just what kind of hell the kid had endured that made him like that.

_Does Jaune actually know how to use the sword?_ He also couldn't help but wonder.

Before he can ask further, the sound of a bell rang from the kitchen. They hear Joe shout, "Order up!"

They look over to the end of the counter, where a nearby swinging door flung open. A tired-looking waitress walked out, holding a platter with two cheeseburgers and a glass of water. They watched as she quickly walked over to where they were sitting and placed the metal serving tray unceremoniously between them. Not even bothering with sparing them a glance, the waitress promptly returned to the kitchen, no doubt to hang up her apron and punch the clock. Jaune suspected she was also upset that she didn't receive a tip.

Looking down at the platter, Jaune looked at the cheeseburger. It smelled delicious, the sweet allure of tenderized and grilled beef mixing together with melted cheese to create an intoxicating scent. After the day he's been having, a tasty and delectable treat sounded like the perfect reward. He looked over at Willis, who had immediately begun eating his burger, no doubt wanting to finish it while it was still fresh off the grill. The homeless man was merciless in his assault on the burger, chomping down with all the force of a bear feasting on fish.

To watch his new friend gorge on the burger in such a manned, than it had to be one hell of a good burger. Jaune picked up his burger and dug his teeth. What followed was an explosion of taste that left his taste buds practically screaming in ecstasy. The beef was juicy, and he could detect the faintest hint of seasoned spices, such as salt, pepper, and something he had never quite tasted before. The melted cheese, whatever type it was, was practically flooding his mouth with sweet, pasteurized dairy goodness. The bread wasn't half bad either.

For all he knew it was probably quite bland compared to what he's eaten in the past, but he didn't care in the slightest. As of this moment, this burger was the tastiest thing he ever had. He wondered if Ren knew how to make something like this.

He stopped midway through his bite when he realized what he had just thought. Was Ren even alive? What about Nora? Did they make it out okay? Should he call them?

He suddenly realized in horror._ Wait, why haven't I called them!? _

Dropping the burger onto the try, he quickly fished his scroll out of his pocket. He noticed that the screen was slightly cracked, but it was nothing major. He quickly pressed down on the screen, the device quickly coming to life, showing a translucent blue screen. He entered his password, allowing him access. He pulled up his contacts and pressed Ren's name.

Bringing the scroll to his ear, he heard the usual sound effect that rang whenever he made a call. After several seconds, a feminine-sounding, computerized voice spoke. _"We're sorry, but it appears we have lost the signal."_

Confused, he pulled the scroll back down and tried for Nora. What he got was the same response. Then he tried Ruby, only for the same to happen. Every name he had on his contact list, from Coco to Sun, he got the same reply. No signal at all.

_Is the CCT down or something? Maybe I should try another network. _He slid his finger across the screen, going to the settings menu. He found the network connection option and pressed on it. To his dismay, there were no CCT networks available.

Jaune started to hyperventilate, his eyes dilating and his breathing getting ragged. He had to reach his friends somehow! He needed to know if they're safe, if he had reached Ruby, or if Pyrrha was safe!

_Oh, Gods, Pyrrha!_ Jaune thought, the dam finally bursting open.

Tears fall from his eyes as he began to accept the reality of the situation. The reality being that he was all alone in an unknown place, possibly very far from Vale, maybe even Remnant and he had no means of finding out if his friends were alive. He refused to believe that he was in another world, that he had been plucked right out of his home and into a strange, unfamiliar world. It was too crazy, even for him and he lived in a world where literal monsters roamed the planet and ate people.

"_You have one new message."_

Jaune blinked in surprise. He looked at the screen and saw to his relief that a message had indeed been sent to his phone. According to the time stamp on the alert, it had been sent close to ten minutes ago. That was right around the same time that bright light appeared. The name of the sender, to his joy, had been his best friend, Ruby. Could this be his chance to know if his friends were alright?

He moved his thumb to press the play button. But just as it made contact, the scroll died, having run out of energy. Jaune had forgotten that he hadn't charged his scroll earlier, and he hadn't brought his charger with him. He had one chance to find out if his friends were alive and it was taken from him, all because he hadn't bothered to charge his damn scroll?

Jaune was so lost in his self-pity that he failed to notice that Willis was staring at him with sympathetic eyes and a twitching mouth, as though he were trying to find the right words to say. The older man honestly didn't know what to do. But then he heard the diner entrance being opened. He turned in his seat to see who had stepped in. He immediately smiled at who he saw.

He greeted them cheerfully, "Detectives Bullock and Montoya!"

The sound of their names being called caused the two new arrivals to walk over to the countertop. Jaune had heard Willis speak and turned to face the people he was speaking to. From what he had heard, they were detectives, officers of the law.

The first person he saw didn't exactly fit the image of a friendly neighborhood policeman. No, the man standing before him looked more like a shady-looking mall cop, somewhat overweight and with a face that seemed to be stuck in a perpetual frown, and it had the beginnings of a 5'oclock shadow. His clothing did sell the image of a stereotypical hardboiled detective, with the fedora, overcoat, and even a toothpick in his mouth. He also smelled of alcohol and other things that Jaune honestly didn't want to know about. With an appearance like that, it was obvious that the man's name was Bullock.

The second person was undoubtedly female, very attractive, and presented herself as more of a professional. She had long, luscious black hair and tanned skin, and wore a blue casual business jacket with trousers, with a yellow buttoned shirt underneath her jacket. She seemed to be friendlier than her partner, smiling at Willis as though she were seeing a friend after so long. Her arms were crossed, allowing Jaune a look at her right hand, which held a beautiful diamond ring on her finger. It looked like an engagement ring. Obviously, her name was Montoya.

They were both dripping wet. Jaune guessed that the storm had finally set in. He was glad that he and Willis had been able to enter the diner before the first drop. Aside from their damp clothes, what the two also shared were the badges hanging on their belts, two golden shields with the letters "GCPD" embossed upon them. Jaune assumed the letters stood for Gotham City Police Department.

The idea of being in another world was starting to sound less crazy to him. Jaune just kept his gaze on them, wondering what questions he could ask them.

Bullock didn't appreciate the stare one bit and rudely asked, "What'cha starin' at, pretty boy?"

Jaune immediately disliked this man. Despite his current self-pitying demeanor, which no doubt contributed to his anger, he replied, "Oh, I was just admiring the hat. I was wondering how it can fit that big head of yours."

The gruff detective chuckled, as though not intimidated in the slightest. "Good effort, but ya' might wanna try something more original, kid. I've heard that one more times than I've had dates."

Montoya smirked and said, "So more than zero, Harv?"

Bullock nearly swallowed his toothpick at that, not expecting that comment from his partner. He looked at her and frowned, but Montoya only laughed at his face. The man growled, but then he remembered Willis, and immediately eased up. He clapped the homeless man's back and jovially greeted, "Good to see ya', Willy. How's life on the streets treatin' ya'?"

Willis laughed and said, "Well, life's been good, but it's getting better now that I have a job!"

"Are ya' serious? Congrats, man, I always knew ya'd find a way oughta the slums." Bullock sincerely complimented.

As the two descended into a conversation, Jaune felt like a third wheel and went back to eating his burger. Still, he can't believe a nice guy like Willis would be buddies with someone like that. It was almost like if Velvet suddenly became Cardin's BFF. It just made no sense at all. At least he had his burger to keep his mind from wandering.

Well, wandering further than it already has. He frowned, remembering his friends and his fears about their safety. Then he felt someone sit next to him and heard Montoya say. "Nice costume, kid, but Halloween's not until October."

_The hell is Halloween? _Jaune wondered. It sounded like a holiday, probably similar to Hollow's Eve back home. If that's the case, well, at least he'll get free candy come October.

_I seriously have to wait for October again? If I really am in a different universe, then why is it two months behind mine? _He couldn't but ponder. Questions for later, for when he had someone that could explain the concept of multiversal time-shifts to him.

Not wanting to be rude, he turned to Montoya and said, "Thank you, but it's not a costume."

"Oh, right, sorry, I meant to say nice _cosplay._" She said, apologizing for possibly offending the boy.

"I'm not cosplaying. _These_," Jaune tugged on his right sleeve, "are my _actual_ clothes."

Seriously, why do people in this universe keep thinking he was going to some kind of convention?

_Show me at least one cosplayer who has an actual sword and folding shield, with the know-how to use them._ Jaune dared this strange, new universe to prove him wrong.

Montoya noticed his frustration and apologized, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, kid. So you're not in a costume or cosplay, but that doesn't explain the sword and shield."

"Do most people in this city carry swords and shields with them everywhere?" Jaune asked, genuinely curious about whether people do so in this universe.

"Not for a long time. The one's who do now are usually the crazies." The detective answered, crushing the boy's hopes of hunting the Nevermore with his weapons without being seen as a danger.

"Do I look crazy to you, detective?" Jaune asked, wanting to know what the older woman would say.

The detective answered back, "No. But you look lost, in more ways than one."

Montoya knew crazy. Most of the crazy found in Gotham usually went to Arkham Asylum. But this boy sitting next to her, albeit dressed strangely, was certainly not crazy. What she could say about the boy was that he had a very dejected and defeated aura about him, a sort of melancholy she often found in her fellow officers, at least those old enough to have been in the force since long before the Wayne murders. Hell, he reminded her of her father, who served a full tour of duty in Vietnam. It was unnerving, in her opinion, that such a young man carried himself like a shell-shocked veteran.

As though accepting her answer, the boy resumed eating his burger, ignoring the animated conversation occurring to his left and the concerned look of pity Montoya was sending him from his right. He was going to finish his dinner, thank Willis for everything he had done and hunt the Nevermore before it had a taste for Gothamite flesh. After taking the last bite of his burger, the blonde rose from his stool and tapped on Willis' shoulder, "I'm going now. Thank you for your kindness, Willis. I hope we meet again."

Willis watched as the boy turned on his heel and headed for the doors. The boy raised the hood of his black hoodie, obscuring his blond hair, so as to shield it from the storm. He was not the only one watching, as Montoya watched the young man leave with equal parts concern and apprehension. Bullock paid no mind to the boy, preferring to sample some warmed-up leftovers the cook had left for him.

Willis then addressed the two officers, "Hey, can you two do me a favor?"

* * *

What had been a light shower had become a heavy storm, much to Jaune's displeasure. The young man had never been more thankful to have his hoodie. As he walked the street, he was greeted by the perplexed stares of fellow pedestrians. _What, they've never seen a teenager with a sword before?_

He then remembered his current situation. _Oh, right, probably not..._

He didn't mind the stares, in fact he didn't care in the slightest what these people thought. He was a man on a mission and he won't let a couple of strangers impede him. Especially since they live in a city that was practically a Grimm's dream come true. _Wait, can the Grimm even dream?_

He thought about it. Nope. A soulless, killing machine would never have the capacity to have dreams. A Grimm was not like a human, for it can't feel pity or remorse. It can be reasoned or bargained with. All it had were its instincts, which were to hunt, kill and eat. And it will never stop until its prey was firmly within its jaws.

**CRASH!**

Jaune stopped in his tracks. _Did I just hear some glass breaking?_

He turned on his heel, having heard the sound from behind. His blue eyes narrowed in anger at he saw. Just a few feet away from him, a group of masked people were huddled around a now shattered store window. It was raining cats and dogs, yet there were people who had the audacity to try and rob a store, and in full view of an entire street. He watched his fellow pedestrians, and to his shock, found that none of them were even attempting to do anything about the robbery in progress. Some people just walked on and others just watched, not even making an effort to call the police. They were reacting to this crime as though it were a common, everyday occurrence.

Seeing that nobody was going to do anything, Jaune sighed. _Gods damn my conscience sometimes..._

Gripping the pommel of Crocea Mors, Jaune marched his way towards the criminals. The Grimm can wait. He had some anger issues to work through and beating these punks sounded pretty he was within a few feet of the robbers, he stopped and planted his feet firmly on the pavement. Mustering his courage and steeling his resolve, the blond angrily called out, "Hey, Assholes!"

The masked robbers stopped, wondering what suicidal bastard dared call them out. Within seconds, their collective gaze landed on Jaune. They took in his attire, his fierce gaze, and the hand nestled upon the pommel of his sheathed sword. Seeing this young man before them, the criminals did what any sensible person would in their position.

They laughed.

* * *

**Sorry that it took so long to update. I've been taking summer classes at university and we've had some unpredictable weather here. Seriously, we had a tornado one night!**

**Now, since I have other stories to type as well, I have an important announcement to make. Starting now, this story and this story alone will have chapters that will usually 5,000 to 6,000 words long. I'm doing this so that I can publish short chapters quickly rather than spend months writing a single 15,000 to 16,000 worded chapters. Especially now that I'm entering my final semester of college this fall (Thank god!)**

**Finally, I would like to say than you to all the reviewers and the readers who've liked and favorited this story. Seriously, you people give me hope that I can be a better writer someday. Hopefully, I'll be good enough to publish something original that people will enjoy.**

**Expect another chapter to come in August. Stay classy, everybody.**


	3. From Madness and Into the Madhouse (2)

**The following is a non-profit fan-made work of fiction. RWBY is the property of Rooster Teeth Productions, LLC. Batman: Arkham Asylum is the property of DC Comics, Rocksteady, and Warner Bros. Please support the official releases.**

**TWO KNIGHTS AT ARKHAM**

**Chapter 1: From Madness and Into the Madhouse (Part 2)**

* * *

Jaune stood silently as the robbers laughed at him. When he had confronted them, he honestly thought their first reactions would have been a quick yet uncoordinated strike. The men he was facing seemed more like a bunch of two-bit thugs than master criminals. Then again, He didn't consider the thought of them just surrendering upon seeing him, having been intimidated by his fierce warrior stature. If he had been a fierce warrior to begin with, he probably wouldn't have spent the better half of the first semester being bullied by Cardin. But out of all the possible scenarios he considered, it never crossed his mind that their initial reaction would be outright ridicule.

He looked around to see what his fellow pedestrians were doing. To his surprise, he found that nearly everyone had taken cover behind cars, streetlights, and even toppled over trash cans. His eyes caught glimpses of the people within the buildings, looking down upon him from their windows. It seemed like nobody was going to help him.

"HA, what the fuck am I looking at?" One of the thugs cackled. Thanks to the light emitting from a nearby street light, Jaune can see that he was taller than he was and wore a red mask. He'll call him Red.

The second robber, who wore a blue mask, voiced his thoughts on the matter. "Some idiot kid strutting around like he's another damn cape; seriously, what's with the get up, couldn't wait for Halloween, freak!"

The final robber, whose mask was yellow, chuckled as he clutched his stomach. "Here I thought we had to worry about a Dark Knight, instead we get some Dork Knight!"

_Why would they be worried about a dark night? _Jaune couldn't help but wonder. He had heard from Yang, Neptune, and Sun how criminals were a cowardly and superstitious lot, but never did they mention anything about them lacking any self-awareness. They were planning to rob a store in the dead of night and yet they were worried about the time? It didn't make any sense to him.

Red ceased his laughter and then threatened the boy. "Hey, dipshit, why don't you piss off and go do whatever it is costumed freaks like you do! You have any idea who we are?"

Jaune tightened his grip on Crocea Mors and retorted. "A bunch of cheap-shit losers who think it's easier to steal money rather than work for it!"

Red laughed and gave the boy dismissive wave. "Look, kid, you're obviously new to town, so I'm gonna let you off with a warning. This is how things are done here in Gotham. If you have a problem with that, well, you can just go fuck off to Keystone or Metropolis."

With that said, the three criminals returned their attention to the shattered store window, intent on ignoring the brat trying to play hero. If Jaune had been angry before, then he was absolutely livid now. Through gritting teeth, he angrily issued a challenge. "Why don't you come over here and say that to my face..."

He then said with a mocking tone, "Unless you're too chickenshit to do it."

The terrible trio ceased their movements and glared at the young man. Red, whom Jaune figured to be the leader, coughed into his fist and replied with a forceful tone. "You know, kid, you're really starting to piss me off. I'm trying to be nice here and give you an out, but it looks like you have a death wish, and I'm all too happy to make it come true. So, last warning; _fuck off _or we'll _fuck you up!_"

Jaune kept himself composed, despite his anger, and calmly reiterated. "And I believe I told you to come up and say that to my face."

Now understanding that the boy was not going to budge, Red frowned and brought up a knife. He then motioned his partners to join him. Blue, a giant of a man who had been hauling a propane tank and welding torch, set his tools aside and pulled out a machete from his jacket. Yellow, an average-sized man who had been hefting duffle bags with his arms, tossed them aside, wanting to use both hands for the eskrima sticks holstered on his belt. In response, the young huntsman-in-training unsheathed his sword, Crocea Mors, with his arm folded his shield out for his left to use.

Upon seeing the sword and shield, Red whistled in appreciation. "That's some Grade-A renaissance shit you're hauling, Kid. Tell me, what geek you knocked off to get those?"

"These are family heirlooms, actually." Jaune gripped Crocea Mors tighter. "They might be old, but they're still good enough to put some lowlifes in their place."

Red chuckled menacingly. "We'll see about that after I pry them from your cold, lifeless fingers."

Red charged, holding his knife in a reverse grip. The criminal swiped it across in an arc, which Jaune dodged by jumping back. Seeing this, Red charged again, knife behind his back, prepared to deal out another strike. Preparing himself for another assault, Jaune raised his shield. Red saw this and smirked, his plan having worked. Just as he was within an inch of the blond, he ducked and spun behind him, his hand switching from a reverse grip to a forward edge grip. The man then shot his fist downward, knife positioned within his hand like an assassin's hidden blade.

Jaune felt an explosion in pain as he felt something cold and sharp pierce his thigh. He winced and held back an anguished scream as he lost his footing and dropped into a kneeling position. He had underestimated his opponents. He had thought they were just the typical dime-a-dozen thugs that his friend, Yang, often told him about. Given the skills Red had just shown, it seemed that these men were in a league above him in fighting prowess.

"What's wrong, punk?" He heard Red taunt. "You were talking all that good shit just a second ago and now look at you, on your knees like a bitch, crying for mommy!"

Red laughed, which Blue and Yellow joined in. But as they laughed, Jaune took that moment to turn the tables on his attacker. The boy, despite the pain he was in, twisted his body so he could fall on his side. Using his good leg, he swiped Red's feet, causing the villain to fall back on the pavement with a surprised yelp. Rising to his feet, the boy reached for his thigh and pulled the knife, letting a small pained scream as he did. He then looked down at Red, who was flat on his back. When the criminal noticed the boy's gaze, he sneered and tried to jump back to his feet.

Jaune impeded his move by bashing his shield against his face. The boy heard a cracking noise as the shield impacted the man's face. What followed was the sound of a body crumpling onto pavement. He peeled his shield back and saw Red lying still on the pavement, nose broken and slurring words in a daze before drifting into unconsciousness. The man had to be concussed, but he'll live.

Jaune smirked and looked back at the man's cohorts, who stood like statues as they stared at him. He then saw their faces and registered two emotions. They were surprised, surprised that a scrawny little teenage made mincemeat of their boss, and they were fearful, fearing what would befall them should they underestimate him as their boss had. He imagined they had thought his sword and shield were intricate props. To his surprise, Jaune relished their fear. To think that he, a talentless, worthless nobody was making hardened criminals shake in their boots was astonishing. It almost felt euphoric to him, intoxicating even.

"What's wrong, are you both too scared? You're the ones that wanted to go nuts." The boy smirked viciously and growled excitedly. "So, come on! LET'S GET NUTS!"

He banged his sword against his shield. Blue and Yellow, taken aback by the boy's sudden ferocity, stared at each other confusedly. Jaune saw that they started whispering between each other, doubtlessly a quiet debate on whether to avenge their leader or to cut their losses and beat it. Whatever the discussion, it didn't matter, as the two criminals took defensive stances.

Seconds passed as a standoff ensued. Both Jaune and his adversaries stared the other down, analyzing their opponent and gauging their strength. That was when Blue roared and made his move, charging the boy like a rabid rhino. Jaune quickly jumped out of the way and onto the street, his sword and shield scraping against the paved street.

Blue saw this and chuckled. "Quick little bastard, aren't you? Most freeze and shit their pants with just one look at me."

Jaune quickly retorted, "You're big, I'll give you that... But I've fought bigger."

Jaune was not exaggerating, having decapitated an Ursa in Forever Fall Forest and slicing-and-dicing up another one during the breach. It honestly surprised him how far he's come since arriving at Beacon. Without all the training he had undertaken, he would be dead by now. He'll have to thank Pyrrha when he sees her again.

_If I see her again, _Jaune darkly thought. Pushing the dark thoughts back into his mind, the young huntsman focused on the blue-masked giant pacing toward him, machete in hand.

From what he can see, Blue had adopted a new fighting strategy. He was apparently used to opponents who froze from fear of his immense size, allowing him to run them through his weapon. He had also learned from his boss' defeat, choosing not to rely on flashy moves and expecting his opponent to fall with one hit. The giant thug slowly stepped closer, each step methodical and cautious, expecting the young man to counterattack.

But Jaune had no such intention. Rising to his feet, he raised his shield and waited for Blue. When the giant was within reaching distance of him, the boy rolled to his side, then leapt behind the criminal. He then let his shield fold in, becoming a scabbard once again. He quickly sheathed Crocea Mors within the folded shield, grasping the handle with both of his hands. Before Blue could even turn on his heel, Jaune raised his sheathed sword and using all the strength he can muster, bashed it against the man's head. Blue crumpled to the ground, dropping his machete.

Fearing he may have killed the man, Jaune knelt and felt for a pulse. To his immense relief, the man did have a pulse. But he'll have one hell of a headache when he wakes up. Victorious, He rose and stared at the last of the gang. Yellow stood impassively as he watched the boy. Just when Jaune thought he was going to have another fight, the criminal did something unexpected.

Without a word, Yellow tossed his Eskrima aside. Confused, Jaune asked him, "What, are you giving up?"

"Do you have a gun?" Yellow asked.

Jaune blinked at the question, "No, why?"

"Oh, that's good," Yellow reached behind his back and pulled out a pistol. He cocked it, aimed it at the boy and smugly said, "Because I do."

Jaune felt his victorious mood leave him. He raised his hands and swore, "Oh, shit..."

"Yeah," Yellow spoke, "Still, don't feel too bad. You've actually helped me, without those two, I'm free to leave."

"But aren't these guys your friends?" Jaune asked.

Yellow laughed, amused by the stranger's naiveté. "Wow, you're definitely an out-of-towner if you think these shitheads are my pals. Here's rule number one in surviving Gotham, kid: Just 'because we're from the same place doesn't mean I have to like their sorry asses by default."

Jaune was starting to hate Gotham. He then asked the thug, "So what are you going to do to me?"

"Well, I guess I can let you go." Jaune breathed a sigh of relief.

"Then again..." Jaune's heart dropped, "nine times out of ten, the witnesses always go to the police."

Yellow pulled the trigger. There was a sound of thunder and Jaune lurched forward in pain. He dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach. He felt cold, like all life was daring from him. He looked down and saw that his hands were stained with his own blood. He began to hyperventilate as the full gravity of the situation dawned on him. He had been shot. After surviving Cinder and the Grimm, it was a gunshot from a second-rate thug that finally did him in?

While the bullet lodged within his stomach was indeed painful, but it was the thought that he he'll never see his friends and family again that hurt the most. Now he'll never apologize to his parents for running off. He'll never see his sisters again. He'll never get to see his nephew, Adrian, grow up. He'll never see Ruby, his first real friend, become a great huntress. The rest of Team Rwby, though they weren't close, he'll miss all the same. He'll never see Ren, his brother in all but blood. Nora, the goofy but lovable girl he loved like a sister.

_Pyrrha..., _He thought as tears welled in his eyes.

He'll never once again gaze upon beautiful red hair shimmering in the sunlight, Sparkling, kind green eyes that glowed in the moonlight, and Soft, pink lips upon his own. Feeling delirious, he began to wobble, his eyes struggling to stay open. In fact, just breathing was starting to become a chore. He was going to die, in another world, and nobody from his would ever know.

He felt a cold steel barrel pressed against his forehead. Despite his blurred vision, he could make out the figure of a man with a yellow mask, smirking sadistically at him, as he held a pistol to his forehead. That's when he saw the strange red and blue lights that lit the masked man's face. He thought they were kind of pretty. Then he heard a man's voice.

It shouted, in a very authoritative tone, the word, "Freeze!"

* * *

_It was quite possibly the most painful experience of my life. All my life, I had never imagined that I would get shot. Even after my aura was unlocked, I thought I would live my whole life without getting shot. I thought that my time at Beacon would have made me strong enough to disregard the damn things. How could I have been so arrogant?_

* * *

Emerging from the passenger side of his police cruiser, Detective Bullock sneered as he aimed his revolver at the suspect. He roared, "I said freeze, asshole!"

Montoya, who had been seated in the passenger seat, followed suit and aimed her own weapon. The two detectives stared the yellow-masked man down as he held a gun against the head of the boy they had been looking for. As Bullock feared, the kid had gone and gotten himself into trouble. Now he was on his knees, barely clinging to life, as he clutched his bleeding stomach. The detective noticed two other masked individuals lying prone on the street. They seemed to have had the living daylights knocked out of them.

_Did the kid do that? _He wondered in shock. He looked around and saw that his fellow Gothamites were starting to scatter, likely fearing that the criminal might turn his gun on them if he tried to escape. He looked up at the sky and saw that the bat-signal had been lit. But Batman was nowhere to be seen. He remembered that a bulletin had been sent over the radio, with the dispatcher claiming that Batman had been called to deal with the Joker, who had taken over City Hall and was holding Mayor Hamilton and his staff hostage. The bat will take care of it, of that he was sure of.

But what about the other members of the so-called Bat Family, he couldn't help but wonder. He heard rumors that Joker had killed the second Robin, which can explain why the boy wonder hadn't been seen in over a year. There was also no sign of that new hooded girl that's been running around, the one that unnerved him with her silence. It didn't matter either way, but what did matter was that the boy must receive medical treatment as soon as possible.

He shouted harshly, "Drop the damn gun before I drop you!"

The yellow-masked criminal dropped, putting his hands in the air. Bullock smiled at that. This criminal had some brains. He turned to his partner and told her, "Montoya, get on the horn, call for an ambulance and some back-up. I'm taking this asshole in."

Montoya nodded and retreated back inside the car, intent on radioing for help. As she did so, Bullock approached the criminal and boy. He kept a firm and steady grip on his pistol as he centered his sights on the thug. He knelt by the boy, while keeping his gun on his would-be murderer. He then asked the boy in concern, "How are you feeling, kid?"

The boy whimpered, "It hurts."

The detective sighed, "I know it does. We've got an ambulance on the way."

"Don't need it..." The boy wheezed, "I can fix this."

Bullock blinked in confusion at those words. He wondered if the blood loss was messing with the kid's head, making him delirious. But just as he was about to ask what the kid had meant by that, something that he can only call extraordinary happened. The kid's body started to glow, a luminescent white energy that seemed to shimmer across his body. He watched as the boy's face contorted in anguish, with his eyes closed tightly and his teeth grinding, holding in a pained scream. Bullock jumped back, not understanding what was going on or what he should do. He looked over at the masked criminal and found that he too was just as shocked, given that he was imitating a gasping fish as watched the teen glow.

They watched the boy lift the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it up to his chest plate. Illuminated by the strange light surround his body, the two were able to see his stomach and the bullet wound. To their shock and amazement, the bullet was being burrowed out of the bleeding wound. The blunted metal projectile exited the wound, falling to the pavement with a soft clank. With the bullet removed, the wound began to close in on itself. Within second, whatever remained of the gunshot wound was gone, with drying blood upon the newly healed skin marking where it had once been.

"See, fixed it..." The boy dazedly said before falling into unconsciousness. He fell on his side, leaving the two men to stare in awe at the young man

Neither the officer nor the criminal moved. They were so shaken by what they had seen that they didn't even blink. Bullock was so distressed that he didn't even notice the sound of rapid and heavy footsteps from behind him, nor did he register Montoya's presence until she spoke. "I called in an ambulance, Harv. Back-Up is on its way. I also got word that Batman has arrived at city hall..."

She trailed off when she noticed the shell-shocked appearance of her partner. She nudged him, asking. "Harvey, are you alright? I saw a bright light back in the car; do you know what that was?"

Bullock nodded, "I'm looking at him right now."

"What do you mean? You mean the Kid?" She asked unsurely. Bullock nodded in response.

She then noticed the criminal standing next to them, whose masked face bore the same expression as her partner. When he saw that the detective's attention was now upon him, he told her with a frightened tone. "I-I th-th-think I'd like to go to jail, where things make sense."

Despite wanting to know more about the situation, duty called. Montoya rose and pulled out handcuffs from her jacket, which she then locked around strangely cooperative crook's wrists. She read the man his rights, as was required of her as an officer of the law, and ordered him to stay put. Considering the man's state of distress, she knew that he'll obey. She returned her focus to her partner, who was still frozen. She then softly asked. "Harvey, what happened?"

The detective replied. "He glowed and healed himself. He was able to extract a bullet out of his body without any tools. It was like his body pushed it out on its own."

She then asked, "What, do you mean the kid healed-"

Bullock nodded, "Yep."

He then looked at her. "You know what means?"

Montoya sighed in exasperation and answered, "A Code New-52."

Bullock composed himself and told her to call it in, as well as to cancel the ambulance request. This just became more that what he bargained for. He then scooped the unconscious boy in his, to carry him back to the car. He knew this kid was going to be trouble the minute he met him.

Montoya led the thug back to a bench near the police car, where he will sit until another squad car came to collect. She knew that his two compatriots weren't going anywhere. As soon as she was sure the masked man was secure, she returned to the cruiser's dashboard and picked up the walkie.

"Cancel that EMT request." She said into the walkie.

She bit her lip as she mulled over whether to report what they had seen. She knew that the instant he reported the boy's status that he'll have some unwanted attention focused upon him. But then she remembered that she had a certain friend living in a clock tower that could help. Her friend can get in touch with the one man that she knew could help the boy.

Her mind made up, she called in the code that would decide the boy's fate, "Update. We have a code NEW-52. I repeat we have a new-52."

* * *

_Code New-52: New Metahuman discovered._

_With just that single code, my life on Earth was decided for me, and I had no say in the matter._

_Metahuman, that is what they call people like me here. A Metahuman, Meta meaning to "transcend". According to the rest of the world, I am a being that transcends humanity. All my life, I had wanted to be someone special. Back on Remnant, where people with amazing abilities were praised as champions of the people, and as such were not feared for having such gifts._

_On Earth, I learned the same is true here. _

_I learned later on this night that there were also those whom people feared for having extraordinary powers. Especially those who chose to hide behind masks. People who chose to abuse their gifts, out of a sense of revenge against a world that they felt had wronged them just for existing._

_But that is not all I learned. On this night, I learned of two men, who had no powers, whom were still considered superhuman in spite of that._

_A Knight that lurked in darkness to protect the light, a wounded soul who fought to save others from the pain that has haunted his life. _

_The other..._

_A clown who just wants to watch the world burn, a monster so broken inside that he views human suffering as the ultimate form of comedy._

_And where did I meet these two?_

_A madhouse._

* * *

**I'm sorry if this chapter was short, but I said another one would be published this month and I was intent on meeting that deadline. I've also been busy since my last semester of college began this week. Expect another chapter to be published soon, which will be the one when Jaune meets the Dark Knight and Clown Prince of Crime.**

**To those who'll no doubt say that I nerfed Jaune in this chapter, well, he was holding back. He's in a new world, and being a comic reader, he had to accept the old trope that what exists in his world may not exist on Earth. Plus, he totally wrecked those two guys, only to get cheap-shot by the third guy.**

**I also hope you caught the references I made, as well as the clue behind a certain character from the comics, who will appear in this universe and have a big role in Jaune's story.**

**Anyway, who's excited for the Joker movie. Here's hoping Joaquin Phoenix can give us a performance that rivals Nicholson's and the late Heath Ledger's. **


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